


Worth Keeping

by tuesday



Series: Fishing for Trout [7]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Human Experimentation, Kidnapping, M/M, Mid-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23855995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: Kisame was the sort of person who could handle himself.  He was strong, he was smart, he was experienced, he was adaptable, and he was extremely good at what he did.  It made it all the more embarrassing that someone had gotten the drop on him, even if that someonewasone of the Sannin.  That same Sannin had gotten his ass kicked by a teenager when he broke with the Akatsuki and tried to take an Itachi-shaped severance package.  Surely Kisame could have put up a fight.
Relationships: Hoshigaki Kisame/Uchiha Itachi
Series: Fishing for Trout [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713781
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109
Collections: What Fen Do (Instead of Going Outside), When Death Loves Flamingos





	Worth Keeping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Masu_Trout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masu_Trout/gifts).



> Written for the tag "Badass who hates using their skills/powers uses them to save their lover's life."

Kisame was the sort of person who could handle himself. He was strong, he was smart, he was experienced, he was adaptable, and he was extremely good at what he did. It made it all the more embarrassing that someone had gotten the drop on him, even if that someone _was_ one of the Sannin. That same Sannin had gotten his ass kicked by a teenager when he broke with the Akatsuki and tried to take an Itachi-shaped severance package. Surely Kisame could have put up a fight.

Orochimaru looked entirely too pleased with himself as he observed Kisame’s bound form. Kisame’s chakra was sealed, and he’d been separated from Samehada, left back in his rooms. (He was almost as outraged that Orochimaru hadn’t wanted his sword as he was that he’d been abducted.) Kisame’s thoughts were sluggish and his body slow to respond from the drugs in his system. He was suspended in a tank of a water-based solution, which should have been a mistake on Orochimaru’s part but was useless to him right now.

Kisame bared his teeth and did his best to project with his face alone the thought: _Fight me, you coward._

“I must say that I haven’t missed that ugly expression of yours,” Orochimaru said pleasantly, like they were two friends catching up and he was commenting on the weather. “I wish I could keep you asleep for this, but the subject needs to be awake to get the full range of readings.” Orochimaru gently tapped at the glass, where a seal had been neatly etched. “Don’t worry. This won’t hurt _too_ much.”

The pain that followed wasn’t as bad as the shame that Kisame had been caught without a fight. He didn’t even have the joy of knowing he’d at least punched Orochimaru in the face or shaved some of that pale, creepy skin off of him with Samehada.

—

Being an experimental subject was boring. Kisame was very good at what he did, but unfortunately so was Orochimaru. There were no openings Kisame could exploit. He was kept without access to his chakra, drugged just enough that his body was weak and wouldn’t respond properly but not so much that it interfered with Orochimaru’s tests, stuck in his little glass cage without any leverage to try to break the glass. The walls were thick, and the seals etched in weren’t weak points.

Like it or not, all Kisame could do was observe Orochimaru back and hope that he picked up something he could later use to ruin him once Orochimaru had gotten bored and left Kisame’s care to someone a little less competent.

Kisame never even considered that someone might come to rescue him.

He was a member of a group of criminals. He’d slaughtered every true comrade he’d ever had. His current partnership had started with him telling a thirteen year old that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. Never mind that they were getting along much better these days—very well indeed in the last year or so—Kisame didn’t hold any illusions about the fact that he was replaceable. If he wasn’t strong enough to protect himself, then he wasn’t strong enough to be worth keeping.

It was fine. Kisame would bide his time, and then he would show the world just how strong he could be.

—

Someone came to rescue him.

It wasn’t Madara, who’d recruited him. It wasn’t Leader, who in retrospect would probably want the ring back even if he’d given up on the shinobi attached to it. It wasn’t any of the other Akatsuki pairs sent to retrieve him on the orders of aforementioned leaders.

Itachi’s pretty, blank face was less blank than usual. His lips were pressed in a thin line. His eyes glinted darkly as his sharingan spun to life. There was nothing, and then suddenly killing intent was pouring off of him in waves. It was kind of hot, actually. Hotter yet was how Itachi had, in the instant he revealed himself, sliced a deep gash in Orochimaru that very nearly split him in two. Blood splashed against the front of Kisame’s glass cage.

“I didn’t realize you’d gotten so attached,” Orochimaru said, seemingly unconcerned with what would have been a mortal wound on anyone else.

Itachi didn’t reply. The nail polish on his nails drew the eye as he flashed through hand signs.

“You can keep your pet,” Orochimaru said dismissively and—there were no other words for it—turned tail and fled.

Itachi didn’t pursue. He shattered the glass holding Kisame and pulled him from the wreckage.

“You could’ve taken him,” Kisame slurred, thoughts still not moving in their usual patterns. They were in enemy territory. He should stay focused, alert for potential attacks or Orochimaru’s return, but he kept getting distracted by the bright red drop of blood sliding down Itachi’s cheek, the way it seemed to shine in the harsh light of the lab. Kisame wanted to lick it.

Itachi checked Kisame’s pulse with fingers that felt hot against his wet, clammy skin. “We’re leaving.”

Itachi draped his cloud-covered cloak around Kisame’s shoulders and threw Kisame over his shoulder. They left. When Itachi reached the outside of the lab, he made another hand sign and the entire thing went up in flames, then collapsed in on itself. The thin, flat line of his mouth curved up the slightest bit.

Kisame wanted to drag him to the ground of the grassy field surrounding them and wreck him.

“Can you walk?” Itachi asked assessingly, letting Kisame down but taking most of his weight, holding him carefully—firmly enough he wouldn’t fall if he fainted, gently enough that Kisame could break away if he’d gotten his strength back and wanted to get some space. Itachi’s voice was even, practical. It demanded the truth, no prevarications.

Kisame wasn’t the type to prevaricate anyway. “Not yet.”

“I can carry you,” Itachi said.

“Hey, before we head out,” Kisame said, forcing his fingers to move and tug at a lock of Itachi’s hair. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Itachi frowned. “I destroyed all the information Orochimaru had gathered on you. If he has back-ups, we’ll find them and destroy them, too.”

Kisame suppressed the urge to sigh. Sometimes, there was such a thing as being too mission-oriented. “You just rescued your handsome lover. Aren’t you going to give him a kiss?”

Itachi looked at him with that blank stare on his really too pretty face for two full seconds. Kisame thought that he would say no, but instead he pulled Kisame into a firm, hard kiss. It was over almost as quickly as it began. Then, Itachi hefted Kisame over his shoulder again.

“That was barely a kiss,” Kisame protested.

“You can have the rest when we get back.”

Kisame let it go. He could be patient, and a night with Itachi was almost as good as the thought of finishing the job and ripping Orochimaru in two.

—

(Kisame could take care of himself—but recently, he didn’t have to.)


End file.
